Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed
by KADH
Summary: Trust Gil Grissom to take an old wedding tradition and give it a new twist.
1. Prologue

**Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue**

Trust Gil Grissom to take an old wedding tradition and give it a new twist.

_Part of the Time series. Follows "The Good Fight," "Closing Arguments," "Reconciliation," "Admitting Impediments," "Engaging Conversations," "When the Dead Can't Wait" and "Going with the Living" and takes places post season eight, circa February 2009._

XXXXXXX

**Prologue**

"While I know Sara isn't much into following tradition," Grissom began as he addressed the small crowd of guests in attendance. "I couldn't resist appropriating this one, even though the Victorians originated the practice as a mean of ensuring good luck and fortune for the bride." He beamed at his new wife; Sara smile indulgently in return, amused that even at moment like this, Gil Grissom would still and ever be so quintessentially Grissom.

"On her wedding day, she would have with her something old, something new, something borrowed..."

"And something blue?" Sara finished for him.

"Yes," he replied. "A piece of jewelry or other family heirloom would often serve as the _something old_ which represented her connection to her family and her old life, a connection that she would still maintain even after her marriage.

"A bride's wedding gown which was more often than not, the best dress she owned or would own, typically stood for the _something new_ that celebrated the new life she was to make with her husband.

"The _something borrowed_ could be almost anything, but it was to remind her to never forget that her friends and family would be there whenever she needed them.

"As for _something blue_, while women used to wear blue ribbons in their hair or in the trim of their dresses, brides now simply wear blue in their garters, not knowing that choice of color goes all the way back to biblical times and used to symbolize her purity, constancy and fidelity.

"Not being the bride, mind you," Grissom continued, smiling wryly. "I had to improvise just a little.

There was a long pause, where he seemed to be pondering his next words, but when he spoke, his voice was steady and even.

"I always knew I had the pleasure of possessing something old that was more precious than any gem or jewel, more dear that silver or gold –

"Old friends in all of you.

"As for something new..." He fiddled unconsciously with the new ring on his left hand as he resumed, "There is the dream and the hope and the joy and yes, a little trepidation to be found in new beginnings, in this new life," he admitted reluctantly, but honestly.

"What to borrow proved a little difficult. I tried to borrow someone else's words -- the wisdom of all of those who have gone before in hopes that I would find just the right words for this moment.

"But when I thought about all the sentiments I've ever heard or read, I found them incomplete and then I realized that merely love itself and simple words are far more lasting than all the flowery verse ever penned by all the greats that ever wrote in prose or rhyme."

"That and you promised..." Sara teased.

"True," he readily conceded, remembering all too well the _no quotation_ promise he had made to her the week before. He turned to her and took her hand in his and said, "So these will have to do –"

He took a deep breath, met her gaze and whispered, "Sara, all I know is that I have but begun to love you."

For several long moments, there was nothing but the startled hush at the open intimacy in his admission. Nothing but the two of them.

As Sara reached up to caress his cheek, she seemed to be blinking back tears. Grissom wiped them away and ran his hand along her arm and down her back.

"As for something blue," he finally continued, his voice softer now. "Who would have thought that by breaking with tradition that you, my dear, would actually end up following it in the end?"

"You peeked," she scolded, her tone yet playful still.

For his part, he deigned no reply, except for the guilty sort of grin on his face that was in no way conciliatory and the mischievous look that played openly in his eyes. Sara merely shook her head and sighed.

Grissom drew up a glass. "So to old friends..." he said raising it in honor of those in attendance. "And new beginnings. To promises kept. And to you," he gestured to his new bride. "Always."


	2. Something Old

**Something Old...**

A very warm and very familiar hand reached out to take hers as Sara stepped out from the car.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming," Grissom teased in a tone that matched his touch.

She smiled as she peered up at him and said, "No chance of that." She waited for the sedan to pull away before she continued, "It seems the driver you hired decided to trust his GPS unit rather than your directions. And as you neglected to inform me of where we were supposed to be going, I really couldn't be of much help. Hence why we were late."

"I see."

"Contrary to what you may think, _Gilbert_, it is possible for a woman to be ready on time."

"I can't recall you ever not being fastidiously punctual, my dear," Grissom replied. "Except perhaps the first time..."

"I was ready on time," Sara corrected. "I just was having a little trouble with my shoes and needed a little help being done up. Which reminds me," she said, slipping the softly draping ivory shawl from her shoulders as she turned her back to him.

"Buttons," Grissom smiled as he began to fasten the neat pearly row that ran up her back. "You always did have a problem with buttons," he mused. "Well doing them up," he quickly qualified. "Unbuttoning, not so much."

Sara spun and pursed her lips, trying to look shocked and disproving at his innuendo, but failing miserably. She knew it was all together too true for her to deny. But she knew, too, that she could give as good as she got.

"Well, as you proved to be so deft at it --" She began. "I saved them for you. Or would you have rather I asked the driver to do it?"

Her eyes were full of impish delight and the same sort of mischief his had been when he had handed her out of the car. Her grin only grew when he merely shook his head ruefully and motioned for her to turn back around so he could finish.

The final button in place, Grissom paused for a moment to run his thumbs up the hard line of her spine that the cut of her dress left exposed. His hands slid around her shoulders before skimming along her bare arms as he leaned in and nudging a curl aside, proceeded to press a kiss into the soft hollow of her neck.

Sara leaned back into the brief caress and sighed contentedly.

But soon, all too soon, the moment had passed and he was gently replacing the wrap around her shoulders.

This time, when his eyes met hers, he found that the mischief had been replaced by tenderness and she, that his blue eyes had deepened, as had the look he was giving her. She was not quite sure what it meant, that look. But she could hear the reverence in his voice when he breathed, "You are so beautiful."

That look, that tone, those words left her momentarily speechless and she found that she could not help but blush and beam with pleasure at the utterly unabashed compliment.

Once she finally got her voice back she said, "You don't clean up so bad yourself," as she reached out to smooth the lapels of his suit.

Grissom smiled, enjoying the gentle pressure of her hands against his chest. He tugged at a tendril at her throat before taking a step back and giving her a perfunctory once over.

"You are missing something though," he whispered.

"Oh?" She inquired, peering down at herself, suddenly self-conscious.

His grin grew as he led her through the mostly empty parking lot toward his own car.

"I thought you might indulge me, just this once," he said, handing her a small hatbox.

She peered down at it, a little dubiously as she was more than a little unsure of what lay inside. Grissom's surprises were always well, surprises.

For his part, he merely stood there patiently waiting. When she finally lifted the lid, Sara was pleasantly surprised to find a small hand-tied bouquet inside.

As she gingerly removed the flowers, she asked, "Am I going to have to wait until we get back to Vegas so Greg can tell me what they mean this time, too?"

"No, not nearly that long," he replied, replacing the box in the car and taking her arm. "Besides, what makes you so sure that they mean anything at all?"

"Because they're from you."

He made no reply, except to guide her past a few scrawny looking pines and scrubby bushes and onto a rough dirt path that led to a series of crudely cut steps.

"Now I see why you told me to bring comfortable shoes," she said, intent on watching her feet for the first few moments. But the soft crash of waves and the rustle of the breeze through the tall grasses caused her to look up and gasp at the sight of the great blue expanse of ocean stretching out just beyond the timbered railings.

"However did you find this place?" Sara stammered.

But before he could answer, there came from up the trail an energetic bark and the thunder of paws racing upon the ground and Hank nearly bowled Sara over with the enthusiasm of his greeting.

"Down, Hank," Grissom commanded, but Sara neither seemed to notice nor care about the dusty paw prints Hank was leaving on her dress nor did she flinch when he began to lick her face in earnest. She simply laughed and knelt before him, the better to rub him behind his ears.

"Did you miss me?" She asked, patting him affectionately.

"Obviously more than he missed me," Grissom said, taking up the leash that trailed behind the dog.

"Go on," she urged Hank, "Go see your daddy."

But her smile faded when she caught sight of the figures coming around the bend. She stumbled slightly as she tried to rise, but Grissom's hand was instantly beneath her elbow to steady her. She peered up at him, suddenly pale and wide-eyed with apprehension.

"It's okay," he said softly, his touch moving from her arm to her shoulder once she had managed to stand. "Honey, they would never have forgiven us, if I hadn't asked them to come."

"That's not what I am worried about needing forgiveness for," she replied.

"I wouldn't worry about that," he assured her. "They were never angry, Sara. Just worried. They care about you. We all do."

She nodded, but as her gaze returned to their four friends, Grissom could see that it was as if she was still looking for one more to join them in the same way he had when Jim, Catherine, Greg and Nick had stepped out of their rental car.

That one more that wouldn't be coming.

He didn't realize that his grasp had tightened on her shoulder until he felt her hand cover his. He placed a long lingering kiss on her fingers as much to comfort himself as her, before he released his grasp.

"Go on," he finally said. "They're here to see you, not me."

Although it was more with tears than smiles that Sara greeted them, Greg didn't even seem to notice. He merely embraced her with a gusto that almost rivaled Hank's. Nick, too, gave her a hearty hug. Brass merely smiled and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. But it was Catherine's response that Sara had been least sure of.

Catherine, however, simply reached out and brushed the tears from Sara's cheek as she said, "This is no time for tears. There will be plenty of time and occasion for them _after_ you're married."

"Catherine!" Nick exclaimed aghast.

Brass chuckled. "Spoken with all the indignation of a man who's never been married," he said. "I always did have you pegged as a hopeless romantic."

"Actually, tears are supposed to bring good luck to the bride," Greg chimed in.

Catherine turned to him and quipped, "And you know this how, _Grissom_?"

"Actually, that sounds more like a Hodges' comment to me," Nick countered.

"You know, I think you might be right," Brass agreed.

Greg was saved from further ribbing by the sound of Sara's crying hiccupping into laughter.


	3. Something New

**Something New**

The Muir Beach Overlook was famous for its view of the great grand expanse of the Pacific Ocean and for the distant glimpse of San Francisco that it provided.

But on this particular evening, the awe-inspiring vista went largely unnoticed, despite the brilliance of the sunset. Even the faintly twinkling lights of the city off in the distance seemed to have lost their ability to beckon the eye.

No, those assembled there only had eyes for the couple before them and the couple only had eyes for each other, as Grissom took Sara's hand in his and slowly slid the simple band upon her finger, saying softly as he did so, "With this ring, I promise to believe in you, dream with you, hope and trust in you.

"I promise to be there with you to celebrate the good times, but also to be a light and comfort in the dark ones, as you have always been for me.

"Above all, I promise to be yours and yours alone until I breathe my last and I am no more."

A sudden stillness seemed to fall over them as his voice faded away, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, nor an awkward one, but rather one full of equal parts warmth and serenity; surprise and wonder.

After a few moments, Sara simply shook her head and sighed ruefully, "How do you expect me to follow that?" Which earned her an appreciative sort of chuckle from her friends and the hint of a smug sort of smile from Grissom, but she took a deep breath and began anyway.

"We both know I am not as good with words as you," she explained as she pulled a slip of paper from within the folds of her skirt.

"Hardly," he whispered in response.

She peered down at the page in her hand for moment but when she spoke, though her words came out a little haltingly at first, they were more from memory -- and her heart -- than anything else.

"Gil, I love you and I will always love you, support you, dream and hope with you, grow with you and be one with you." She eased the ring she had chosen for him over his knuckles. "And with this ring, I give to you what has always been yours: my heart and my soul, all that I am and all that I will become."

It was Grissom's turn to look slightly taken aback, but contented all the same. He hardly registered the officiant's closing words. When she pronounced them husband and wife and announced, "You may kiss the bride," he did something none of them but Sara could have expected -- he reached for her hand, the same one he had just placed the ring on, brought it up to his lips and pressed a kiss into her palm. She slid that hand around his cheek and drew him close. The kiss that followed began innocently enough, but it was Grissom who moved to deepen it into something more, something long, longing and loving and obviously a little more passionate than their guests expected as Hank let out a rather booming bark and Nick a low whistle and a murmur of "I'll be damned."

Catherine turned to him. "What?" She asked.

"Hodges was right about something."

She looked puzzled for a moment before memory and realization sunk in and a slow smile spread across her face. "Well, don't tell him that. It'll just go straight to his head. And that is the last thing he -- or we -- need," she said as they stepped forward to congratulate the new couple.

XXXXXXX

"You know, I don't think I've ever actually seen you in dress before," Nick was saying to Sara. "Not even at David's wedding."

"I was on call that night," she replied, feeling slightly self-conscious at all the attention.

"I have," Greg chimed in.

Sara shot him a cautioning look.

"And," he continued, obviously oblivious to her unspoken warning, "some of those flowers in that bouquet look awfully familiar. Didn't someone once give you Lilies of Valley before?" When she didn't immediately answer, he grinned impishly and merely plowed on, "It was about three and half years ago, wasn't it?" Greg persisted. "I believe you were wearing a dress then, too. Well, that answers the question of who the hot date was with... Not like I didn't suspect then."

"What?" Nick asked.

But before Greg could elaborate, Catherine cut in.

"Wait a minute," she said as if something suddenly clicked. "That was why you wanted dress advice? For a date with Grissom?"

Sara simply glared at Greg.

"You do give very good advice," Grissom supplied blithely as he returned to Sara's side. As the soft strains of music began to fill the air, he turned to his bride and said, "I believe they are playing our song, my dear."

Sara gladly took his proffered hand, leaving Catherine behind shaking her head in bemused exasperation and Nick pumping Greg for details.

"You looked like you could use a little rescuing," Grissom whispered as he drew her to him.

"I am beginning to understand what you meant by Catherine and the twenty question inquisition. Although it appears you managed to escape without revealing all that much," she said with a still slightly uneasy laugh. "Not that I'm ungrateful, but I didn't know this was our song. I didn't even know we had a song." The two of them continued to sway slightly on the spot for a moment before Sara frowned and said, "I don't think I've ever even heard this song before."

"Then just listen," he replied, pulling her closer until his cheek rested against hers.

I left my heart in San Francisco

High on a hill, it calls to me.

"Do you know what today is?" He asked after a while.

"Besides Tuesday and the obvious?" She questioned in return.

"Besides that."

"The tenth?"

"And that doesn't ring a bell?" When Sara made no reply, Grissom peered into her face. "Don't tell me you don't remember," he said looking a little hurt, though she knew from the twinkle in his eyes, he was more teasing than upset. "The Forensic Academy conference," he prompted when she still looked blankly up at him. "Eleven years ago today, you walked into my seminar."

"And you haven't managed to get rid of me since," she smiled and kissed him softly on the cheek. "And you never cease to amaze me," she whispered into his ear before her brows crinkled as she said, "That seems a rather convenient coincidence or the result of a carefully craft plan."

"It was neither actually."

"Oh?"

"Merely serendipity," he replied.

"Serendipity?"

"As coined by Horace Walpole from the story of 'The Three Prince of Serendip,'" Grissom patiently explained. "Where the heroes would make these surprising discoveries all seemingly by accident."

"As impressive as the depth and breadth of your knowledge is, Gilbert, I do know what the word means..."

Grissom cut off her next question by expertly spinning her out and then in again. Sara laughed.

"Show off," she said.

He gave her a mock innocent _who me_ sort of look and said, "Never" before doing it again.

XXXXXXX

From over by the railings, Nick leaned in and said to Catherine, "I thought you said Grissom didn't dance."

Greg, having overheard, replied, "Maybe it depends on the partner."

"What does that make me? Chopped liver?" Catherine sounded a little miffed, but like the rest of them amused.

"I'll dance with you," Greg offered.

Catherine smiled. "I think I'll stick with someone with a little more experience and without two left feet."

"Ouch," Nick said.

XXXXXXX

With one hand clasping hers against his chest, while the other rested in the small of her back, Grissom drew Sara back to him as the song wound down to a close and the next began. She laid her head against his shoulder.

"So," he said, softly placing a kiss into her hair. "What exactly did you learn from that seminar?"

"Besides the fact that the lecturer was cute."

"Funny..."

"That there was this whole different way of looking at the world," she answered, this time seriously. "That science really could help explain human behavior and that science and the evidence would lead to the truth and sometimes justice."

"But not always," he interjected sadly.

"No, not always," she agreed, knowing all to well that truth and justice weren't always consanguineous. But she didn't want to think about that, not at this moment, so instead she lightly traced the back of his neck with her fingers as she said, "And that it was okay to make mistakes, to be wrong every now and again as long as you found the right answer in the end."

Grissom couldn't resist smiling at this. He had made so many mistakes when it had come to Sara, but somehow they had managed to make it here in the end. He had been so busy thinking about this, that he almost didn't hear her ask, "And what about you?"

"What do you mean?" He questioned in turn.

"You always said that a teacher is only as good as what he learns from his students. So what did you learn?"

"On that particular occasion?"

"Yeah."

"That I had a weakness for bright, inquisitive young women who liked to wear their hair in ponytails."

Sara shook her head and chuckled, "And now?"

"Besides the fact that I still have a weakness for bright, inquisitive young women?" He asked. "That sometimes one has to listen to one's heart and not just to one's head."

"And what is your heart telling you?"

"Like I said before -- that I have only but begun to love you."

"And who would thought you were such a romantic," she teased.

"Oh, just shut up and dance," he replied though he looked pleased when he said it.

XXXXXXX

"I don't think I have ever seen them look so happy," Nick sighed.

"That's not happiness," Catherine corrected.

"Them looking forward to the honeymoon, then?" Greg suggested.

"Don't be so crass," Nick chided.

"What then? _Love_?" Greg asked him.

But it was Brass who answered. "No, that's joy."


	4. Something Borrowed

**Something Borrowed**

Brass gave Grissom a gentle tap on the shoulder. "You didn't think I came all this way to not get a chance to dance with the bride?" He cut in. "Besides, Nick and Greg are starting to eye your ipod as if it contained state secrets."

"I don't have anything incriminating in there," Grissom replied, absolutely and utterly cool and nonchalant until Sara grinned and said, "That's what you think."

For the first time that day, Grissom's composure seemed to waiver. "Maybe I better..." he suggested.

"Yeah," Sara agreed, giving Brass a conspiratorial wink.

"Remind me to never accept a gift from you," Brass deadpanned. As he took her hand in his and they began to dance he leaned in and asked, "Was there really anything incriminating on there?"

"Besides a few entomology lectures and some Shakespeare? Nah. Not unless you consider _La Boheme_, Beethoven, Pink Floyd or the "Mating Calls of Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches" to be incriminating. Although he does seem to have a soft spot for Ella Fitzgerald and Lena Horne."

"'The Mating Calls of Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches'?" Brass questioned looking and sounding rather baffled.

"Yeah, I wondered about that, too, at first," she replied. "I think he uses it to motivate his roaches during races, but I thought it was just one of those things it was better not to ask."

"Good plan," Brass agreed. A few moments later, he leaned in and said, his voice softer and more serious now, "You know when I told you to take good care of Gil, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

"Oh?" Sara asked a little unsteadily.

"Don't worry," he quickly assured her. "You did good, kid. It just came as a surprise, that's all."

"The one thing I've learned about Gil Grissom over the years," Sara replied peering over at where Grissom appeared to be in the midst of discussion with Nick and Greg, "is he's full of surprises."

"You know I don't think I even want to know."

"Good plan."

XXXXXXX

"You do realize that you cheated us out of a chance to throw you a bachelor party," Greg was saying.

"Don't you think we see enough strippers and drinking at work?" Grissom asked.

"True," Nick conceded. "But you have to at least let us take you out to breakfast."

"We'll even let you pay," Greg added.

"Deal."

XXXXXXX

"So, I never really had a chance," Greg said ruefully as he tried valiantly to be suave and not step on Sara's toes and yet still failed miserably which to Sara seemed more endearing than annoying for the first thirty-seconds or so.

"No."

"Then tell me -- what's he got that I don't?" He asked. "Besides a pig in a jar and you know what that is just plain weird if you ask me." But at the way the smile on Sara's face was quickly turning mischievous, he hurried added, "You know I don't think I really want to know the answer to that after all."

"Smart man," was all she said. After a while, she began, her tone softer, gentler, "You do realize picking a fight with Grissom is usually not advisable, right?"

Greg nodded. "Yeah, well you can't exactly tell your boss that he needs to get his head out of his ass before he completely throws his life away out of fear and plain old stubbornness."

"Not unless you want dumpster duty for another month."

"No, thank you," he hurried replied. "_Another _month?" He asked. "You mean it wasn't just my imagination after..."

She merely grinned.

"Sara?"

"I'm still not entirely sure he's forgiven you for seeing me naked before he did."

"Like that was my fault. It was work," Greg protested.

"And you didn't see anything..."

"I didn't," he maintained.

"Right."

As the song came to a close, she hugged him tightly. "I owe you one," she said into his ear.

"Just one?" He asked with a laugh.

XXXXXXX

As they watched Catherine come up to Sara, Brass turned to Grissom and said, "You do realize that you really are a lucky son-of-a-bitch."

"Yeah, I do."

"Well, don't you forget it."

"I know, you and the guys know where to hide the body."

"Don't think we won't."

XXXXXXX

"You two are full of surprises," Catherine said, giving Sara a slightly wry smile. "And really good at keeping things quiet. I have to admit, I certainly had no idea."

Sara's face fell. "It was never meant to be secret, exactly," she tried to explain. "It was just private."

Catherine nodded. "Yeah, I can understand that," she said. "And who would have thought that Grissom was a closet romantic."

"He has his moments," Sara allowed.

"I'm not even going to go there..."

Sara laughed. "It's probably better that way."

Catherine put a gentle hand on her arm. "You do know that I am happy for you, right? Both of you."

"That means a lot," Sara answered and meaning it. Then as if she just realized something, she asked, slightly perplexed, "How did you all even get here in the first place?"

Catherine grinned. "I thought it was time that dear old dad did something nice for the county after all the crap he put us all through."

XXXXXXX

"Sara Sidle," Nick began as he took her hand. "I distinctly remember you expressing certain rather scathing remarks on the whole concept of marriage thing. What did you call it again? 'A property exchange between your father and your husband'? Although if I do recall correctly, you seemed to be singing a different tune when Grissom happened to be around," he teased.

"I never said I was anti-marriage," she maintained. "Just anti-stupid and doing things for the sake of tradition and convention."

"Uh-huh."

"What?"

"I don't think you have to worry," he replied. "No signs of that here."

"Tradition and convention? I suppose not really."

"No, stupidity," he replied.

"Well, I was stupid long enough."

"You both were."

She nodded. "But then stupidity seems to be the natural state of human existence."

"You've been spending way too much time with Grissom."

Sara simply smiled.

XXXXXXX

"You do realize that you have_ that_ look."

Grissom turned to Catherine and asked, "What look?"

"Like the cat that just ate the canary. Except only with all the satisfaction and none of the guilt." When it appeared that he thought there would be a reprimand soon to follow, Catherine merely grinned and said, "It suits you."

"Thanks."

"And I see you finally did take my advice and got your head up out from that microscope."

"You mean I finally extricated it from my ass?"

"Yeah, that, too," she laughed. "Took you long enough."

"True."

"So now that you are married, I guess that means you won't be admiring my tush anymore?" She asked.

Grissom grinned. "Yeah, well --"

"Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me," she assured him. "You know Hodges was a little disappointed that he couldn't come."

"You told Hodges?"

"Well, someone had to stay behind and keep and eye on things," Catherine explained. "And as he holds his observation skills in such high regard and likes to kiss your ass as much as possible, he was the obvious choice."

Her phone gave an insistent jingle. When she peered down at the caller id she shook her head and sighed and said, "Speak of the devil." Then into her phone as she stepped away to talk into it, "Yeah, Hodges."

When she came back, she was frowning.

"Sorry to have to call the party short, guys," she said to the group.

"Ecklie?" Nick asked.

"Who else?" Catherine replied ruefully. "As we aren't technically supposed to be on the clock for four more hours and unlike you," she said looking pointedly at Grissom, "None of us habitually shows up more than two hours early for work, Hodges and the rest of the lab should be able to stall him for a bit." When Grissom looked slightly concerned, she smiled and said, "Don't worry, we worked it all out before we left. And it's all above board, of course."

It was Grissom's turn to look surprised, "You did all that? Why?"

"Because whether you like it or not," Catherine replied, "the people you lead would go to hell and back for you if you were but to ask. And are just as willing to do the same without you having to."

Grissom's smile was both thoughtful and appreciative this time.

"You do know what they say, Catherine," he said.

"No, what?"

"'All good things...'"

Leaving her to puzzle over his reply, he went to shake hands and thank the others for coming.

"While I'm actually off, she's my ride," Brass said. "I'll make sure that Hank gets back okay."

"Thanks."

"You still going to be back in the office on Friday, Grissom?" Nick asked as he gave Sara a good-bye hug. "Or are you going to play hooky a little longer?"

"We'll be back Friday," he assured him. "And in more than a few hours early. We have to make sure to catch Conrad before he leaves for the day."

"_We_?" Catherine asked. "You're plotting something."

"Never," Grissom maintained.

"You are going to have your hands full with this one," Catherine said to Sara as she hugged her. "Try and keep him out of trouble, won't you."

"It's a little too late for that," Sara replied with a guilty sort of laugh.

"Besides, there is nothing wrong with being in a little trouble every now and then," Greg said.

"You would know," Sara teased. When it didn't appear that Greg was going to be letting go of her anytime soon she said, "I'll see you soon, I promise."

Greg nodded.

"As much as I am probably going to regret this," Grissom began. "Tell Hodges I owe him one."

"Oh, he'll love that," Catherine cooed.

Nick shook his head and added, "And won't hesitate to collect."


	5. Something Blue

**Something Blue**

"Alone at last," Grissom sighed, threading his fingers through Sara's as they watched their friends disappear out of sight. There was more than just a hint of relief in his voice. Hank had proven quite a handful, as he had been rather pointedly reluctant to let Sara or Grissom out of his sight.

"Considering you've been stuck with me for nearly two weeks now, I wouldn't have thought you so anxious to see them all leave," Sara replied. "Does that mean you aren't tired of me yet?"

"Hardly," he answered and led her back down the path.

"Besides," she said, giving him an amused sort of smile. "I think we've scandalized them all enough for one night. Or at least you have," she teased.

This stopped Grissom in his tracks. He looked bewildered for a moment until Sara took his face in her hands and kissed him so thoroughly as to banish all thought or confusion.

When she pulled away, he noticed for the first time, that her hair had started to come undone from its graceful upsweep, freeing several curls to blow in the breeze. He brushed them aside before readily returning her kiss. While the intensity of that act caused Sara to shiver more from the close contact than from the cold, he wordlessly slipped the intricately embroidered shawl with its rabble of silver-threaded butterflies away from her shoulders, shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders anyway.

"Am I ever going to get to keep you in a suit for more than five minutes?" She asked with a laugh. When he nodded, Sara qualified her question with "Privately?"

"Ah," he answered. "I suppose that could be arranged."

"Good."

She gave him a long lingering kiss on the cheek before turning to peer out into the distance.

Twilight having come and gone, it had grown darker, but the stars had begun to wink on and the bright face of a just barely waning moon lit up the sky and cast a silvery glow along the cliffs and sea below. It was breathtakingly beautiful.

"You never did tell me how you found this place," Sara said after a while.

Grissom seemed to be considering his response. "You remember the Werner case four years ago?" He finally asked.

"The one Jack asked me to ask you to help with?"

"Yeah, that one," he answered. "Well, we wrapped it up a little earlier than I expected. So I had a little free time on my hands and I decided to go for drive along Highway One."

"Taking in the sights?" Sara questioned still slightly confused.

"No, actually, it was a bit more complicated than that," he confessed. "I wanted to go see something for myself." He paused, peering down at his hands for a moment. "That had been just after..."

"After I had gotten suspended."

He nodded. "Yeah. I guess I wanted to see where you had grown up."

"Return to the scene of the crime?" She asked with a wry sort of sigh.

"Not exactly. Anyway, I had seen the sign for the turn off on my way there and decided on the way back to check it out. It looked like a quiet place to think."

"About?"

"You -- us -- possibilities."

"And?"

"While I didn't come back to Vegas knowing exactly what I was going to do, I did know that I wanted to do something," he replied. "I guess I thought that if I could just keep you in Vegas, there was all the time in the world and I could court you properly, the way you always deserved.

"You would think though after seeing what we do everyday, that I would have known better," he continued, his words now soft and sad. "Known how short life really is and how quickly it could all be gone.

"But I wasn't thinking about that when I got back. I was just thinking about how wonderful it was for us to work together again like we had in the beginning. And then Adam Trent..." His voice trailed off and his eyes got that far off look as if he were back there again on the other side of that glass.

"Gil," Sara called, slipping her hand around his cheek and drawing his face to hers. Her touch seemed to revive him; he gave her an uneasy sort of smile that didn't quite extend to his eyes.

His eyes fell on the bouquet on the small table and he said, as if to lighten the mood, "You don't know how hard it was to convince the florist I only wanted eleven irises."

Sara followed his gaze and smiled. "I forgot to ask Greg," she said, fingering the petals fondly. "So are you going to translate for me? The Lily of the Valley I do know, thanks to Greg -- and Tom Cruise."

"And?" He asked. This time Grissom's smile did reach all the way to his eyes, both the grin and the sparkle there held a return to their earlier playfulness.

"And what?"

"You don't remember what else Greg said they meant?"

She thought for a moment, trying to recall Greg's words, but it was hard to think of anything beyond the breathy "You complete me" Grissom had spoken from the hallway that night.

"Let's see," she began. "There was _purity_ -- but you and I both know that doesn't really apply here --"

He didn't rise to the bait. "And?" He patiently prodded.

"A return to... to..."

"To happiness," he supplied when it became apparent she had forgotten.

Sara smiled at the sentiment. "And the irises?" She asked.

"Faith. Hope. Wisdom. Promise in love," Grissom answered. "And I suppose that is all true, too."

"But that wasn't the meaning you chose them for."

He shook his head. "_Inspiration_," he answered. "Not just in the way that you've encouraged me to be a better man, a better person, to just be more myself.

"Nor is it just because you've made me feel so many things I never thought I would or even could.

"It's because as strange as it sounds, I found that the one person who so often left me breathless was the same one who could give me breath again."

Long before now, Sara had lost count of just how many times he had taken her breath away and rendered her speechless that evening.

"What's gotten into you tonight," she finally was able to stammer. "It isn't a bad thing," she quickly added at the look of dismay that suddenly flashed over his face. "Just unexpected."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I don't even know where to start. This place. The flowers. The vows," she replied and then she gave him an amused, curious sort of look and said, "Speaking of vows - I thought you were the one who said _the love part would be nice_."

"It was implied," Grissom countered. "But you're right. Perhaps I should have said the actual words. I love you, Sara, I do. You may think that bugs or forensics or science has been the love of my life.

"But it's you. It's always been you."

Sara sighed and shook her head. "Like that... How do you do that?"

Grissom merely smiled.

"And that toast._ Something blue_? Admit it, you peeked."

She took his continued silence as a yes. "You do realize that it is bad luck for the groom to see the wedding dress before the wedding," she scolded.

"Actually, I believe the rule about grooms and wedding dresses only applies to the groom seeing the bride _in_ the dress before the wedding. It has no bearing upon seeing the dress itself."

"Semantics and you know it."

"Besides," he replied, his tone light and nonchalant, "I didn't think you were into rigidly following tradition for tradition's sake."

Sara pursed her lips to keep from laughing. "You do realize that sometimes you are too smart for your own good," she said in her best attempt to be serious.

Grissom just grinned. He slid his hands around her waist, his fingers running along the smooth, silky fabric at her sides. "You always did look lovely in blue," he said, thinking not just of faint tinge of cornflower blue in the simple gown she wore now, nor of the almost iridescent morpho-shaded dress she had worn on their first date, but also of the robe that still hung in his closet patiently waiting for her to return to wear it again.

"Flattery will get you everywhere you know," she teased.

He closed the slight distance between them and tightened his grasp at her waist as he leaned in and whispered, just as he had when he had first seen her emerge from the car that evening, "You are so beautiful."

"Well," she said and did laugh this time. "I had a little help. Sandra picked out the dress really and..."

Grissom kissed her quiet for a moment. "It's not the dress or the hair," he said softly, brushing a few errant strands back behind her ear. "It's not that you _look_ beautiful. You do. But, Sara, you _are_ beautiful. You always have been."

She colored slightly and in the end, asked him more in jest than in earnest, "Will you still say that when I am old and grey?"

"No," he answered.

Sara looked surprised, but not nearly as startled when he added, "You will be even more beautiful then."

"You don't play fair," she finally replied.

"Just because I never seem to say the words, it doesn't mean that I didn't always feel them."

She nodded knowingly. "'When words are scarce --'" She began.

"'They are seldom spent in vain,'" Grissom finished.

"But why now? What's changed?" She asked, although Sara could almost imagine his reply. Natalie. Her long absence. Warrick gone. All the changes that lay ahead for both of them.

But his answer was simpler than that.

"Maybe it was just time," was all he said.

"Maybe," she conceded. "But if you start beginning shifts with hugs, Ecklie's going to think you've really lost it."

"No hugs, I promise," he swore with a grin. "But Conrad will probably think that anyway once I give him the big news."

"About retiring?"

"And getting married."

"I would love to be a fly on the wall for that revelation," Sara chortled appreciatively.

"Why settle for being a fly. Come with me," Grissom suggested.

"You're serious?"

He nodded. "After all, I did tell Catherine that _we_ would be in to see Ecklie on Friday. But you have to promise to behave."

"Me?" She asked incredulously. "I'm not the one coming back from a two-week suspension for insubordination."

"True," Grissom admitted. "It was about time for that, too."

"Speaking of time," she said, gesturing to the path. "Shall we..."

"Actually, there was one last thing I wanted to do first."

He picked up the remote and switched the music on again.

"It may take me a while, but I like to finish what I start."

It was then that she recognized the slow, seductive refrain of "Unchained Melody."

He extended a hand to her. She took it and allowed him to draw her close, even closer than they had been dancing before. She rested her head upon his shoulder and they began to sway more than dance to the music.

Halfway through the song she said, "Tell me, what song would have been next."

Grissom murmured something indecipherable into her hair.

"That night," she persisted. When he didn't reply, she shook her head and said, "Don't tell me _you_ don't remember."

"I do," he replied.

"And?" She prompted, withdrawing slightly to peer up at him.

Grissom merely smiled enigmatically.

So she tried another approach. "What would have happened if we hadn't been called in that night?"

"I would probably have asked you to stay," he said and Sara's eyes went wide at this. "Not like that, dear," he replied, pulling her close again. "I would have just wanted to have you near, to simply be able to feel you, hold you until it became light and we both fell asleep."

Sara smiled. "In that case, you might want to --" she said, reaching into his pocket and removing his phone.

"True," he answered, shutting it off, knowing that her actions demonstrated her desire, as his was, to finish what they had started that night, what they had so unknowingly started all those years ago in the city that twinkled just off in the distance.

Series continued in "Disclosure."

_A/N: Neither this story nor this series would have been possible without the advice and assistance of many people… Poor Frank who had to put up with months of my neuroses and insecurities and the occasional ultimate torture of having to read drafts (I don't believe "read your endless drafts of stories" was part of our marriage vows)… JC who puts up with my endless emails and general harassment… JP whose sometimes contrary point of view has sparked the most interesting discoveries and helped me to clarify a great many points… LS and JP who have always been a great cheerleaders… To all of my correspondents who have shared their stories and lives with me… And to all of you who have taken this journey with me, I could ask for no better companions…_


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